"Not the least bit ethical."
"If Churchill were here, he'd surely be hurling insults back at Victor by now."
But clearly, Jas Dan Quayle was nowhere near that level...
It was so bad that Donald Rumsfeld, the head of the immigration departnt and also one of Quayle's temporary governnt staff mbers, couldn't stand it anymore. He rudely grabbed the phone, "Calm down, Victor, you should understand we're here to solve the problem."
"Then hand over the people from Raytheon and the Texas Consortium Klang Family to us."
Donald Rumsfeld was sowhat helpless, but didn't beat around the bush, "You know that's not possible. Besides, you also killed one of their direct descendants and top executives."
"Heh, do you have any evidence?" Victor asked with a cold laugh.
That old geezer was tough, too. He slamd the table, "What about Mr. Field Whitney, the representative we sent to the United Nations? We didn't co to you for trouble, yet you co to us? Let tell you, Victor, launching missiles is bad for everyone. You can take out Washington, but you can't wipe out the United States' hundreds of thousands of troops!"
"Rember, it's no good for anyone if fish die and the net gets torn. We've had an incident, so let's go solve it."
True to his past as a mber of the Hawk Faction in control of the U.S. Military, his words were always firm. If xico weren't so close to the United States, Donald Rumsfeld wouldn't even bother talking to you and would directly send planes and missiles.
"What about your compensation, Mr. Donald?"
Donald frowned, "No compensation..."
"No this, no that, fuck..." Victor was about to curse out loud, but then he rembered the other party was his girlfriend's grandfather. Cursing his mother would be in bad taste, so he deftly changed tack, "You're not showing any sincerity, making it difficult for ."
"Aren't I losing face here? Your missiles attacked my territory!"
"Don't spout bullshit here. I'll na a few conditions. If you agree, I won't launch the missiles. If you don't, I'm ready to die, but I'll take tens of thousands of people in Washington down with ."
Damn!
This is a madman.
When a madman controls a weapon capable of causing huge harm, everyone learns to shut up because when you provoke him, really bad things can happen.
Just like Francisco Masiel of Equatorial Guinea.
All schizophrenic.
Like Europe's Charles VI, or from Eastern history, the Northern Qi Gao Family, all nuts in the head. Many actions of such people are beyond what even novelists dare to write.
Because fiction requires logic, while reality does not.
Donald Rumsfeld glanced at the acting president and asked in a deep voice, "What do you want?"
Victor's face showed a sly smile.
"One, the United States must apologize to us and take responsibility for the losses from this action!"
"Two, the United States must issue a notice supporting our anti-drug efforts and containnt of any criminal behavior, showing they stand with us."
"Three, there will be industrial aid provided to xico."
...
"Ten..."
Donald Rumsfeld couldn't listen anymore, "And what about you? Aren't you guys at fault in this conflict?!"
That instantly silenced Victor's CPU.
Good grief...
Why does that sound so aggrieved?
"xico will grant the maximum rights to rchants locally," Victor said, phrasing it quite euphemistically.
"Perhaps we need to sit down and talk."
"Of course, no problem, but the United States must apologize for this matter."
Donald Rumsfeld looked at Jas Dan Quayle, who hastily nodded.
An apology then!
"No problem."
"Half an hour, if I don't see your apology on TV in half an hour, then we will go to war. Full-scale war. xicans might not beat you, but they are enough to level one or two cities!"
After stating his terms, Victor decisively ended the call.
As the busy tone echoed in the handset, everyone in the vice-president's office fell silent.
"Just do what he says, we can't discuss the outco of matters with a madman. They only care about what they think," Jas Dan Quayle said, rubbing his temples in slight headache while sitting in his chair.
"Those people really just cause us trouble!"
No one dared to pick up on that; everyone just looked at each other.
"By the way, how did Victor know it was Raytheon and the Texas Consortium Klang Family behind this?"
Suddenly the vice-president looked up and spoke.
"Do we have... another spy among us?"
The usage of "another" was brilliant!
It imdiately quieted everyone, including Donald Rumsfeld, as they turned their eyes to CIA Director Stanfield Turner, who twitched nervously.
The treason of Bahash Johnson had cost them dearly.
Old Bush was still lying in a hospital, reliant on a respirator.
The CIA had nearly lost three within a year, and now Director Turner was still feeling ill at ease, even his breathing felt uncomfortable.
And the death of Admiral Carl Vorno!!
He beca the highest-ranking military officer to die since World War II, no, even before that, with a level of impact that was really...
If it hadn't been for Jas Dan Quayle temporarily taking charge, parts of the United States would have been on the brink of division, with those chicken pickers from Texas celebrating all over the place, and even so ready to cause trouble, waving the Texas flag.
After Old Bush was hospitalized, Florida, mostly made up of immigrants—previously either thieves or drug addicts—had seen 119 shootings, with death tolls skyrocketing.
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